As the shadow of Donald Trump looms large over the 2024 presidential election, it’s crucial to revisit the chilling exchanges that defined his time in the White House. During his presidency, Trump’s interactions with the press were not just combative—they were a window into the authoritarian instincts of a leader who believed himself above reproach.
Consider the following moments:
“Don’t talk to me that way,” Trump snapped at a reporter. “I’m the president of the United States. Don’t ever talk to the president that way.”
In these few words, Trump revealed his disdain for the very principles that underpin American democracy—chief among them, the idea that no one, not even the president, is above scrutiny.
Throughout his presidency, Trump’s treatment of the press was nothing short of a sustained assault on the free press—a hallmark of any functioning democracy. He didn’t just bristle at tough questions; he sought to delegitimise the entire institution of journalism.
“You know you’re a fake,” he spat at a journalist, his voice dripping with venom. “Your whole network, the way you cover it, is fake.”
This wasn’t just a temperamental outburst from a frustrated leader; it was a calculated strategy to undermine the press and, by extension, the truth. Trump’s relentless attacks on the media were designed to erode public trust in any source of information that dared to challenge his narrative. It’s the classic playbook of authoritarianism: control the narrative, discredit the opposition, and present yourself as the sole arbiter of truth.
In an article I wrote earlier this August, I highlighted Trump’s alarming rhetoric that suggests an even darker turn in his political ambitions. During his August campaign, he floated the idea of making voting obsolete—a chilling proposition that reveals much about his vision for America.
“Get out and vote just this time,” he told his supporters, “because after this time, you won’t have to do it anymore.” — Trump.
This wasn’t just another one of Trump’s hyperbolic statements; it was a chilling indication of his desire to dismantle the democratic process itself.
But the assault on democracy doesn’t stop with the right to vote. Trump’s war on the press is another front in his broader campaign to consolidate power. Imagine, if you will, a second Trump presidency. What would it mean for the members of the press who dare to ask tough questions, who refuse to bow to his demands? Trump has made it abundantly clear that he views the press not as a vital check on power, but as an enemy to be crushed.
“What a stupid question that is,” Trump jeered at one journalist, before adding, “I watch you a lot, you ask a lot of stupid questions.”
This is more than just a display of personal animosity; it’s a direct attack on the role of the press in a democracy. By belittling and demeaning journalists, Trump sought to undermine their credibility, to make the public doubt the validity of their questions and, by extension, the legitimacy of their reporting.
The implications of this are far-reaching. Trump’s rhetoric has not only emboldened his supporters to distrust and even despise the press, but it has also set a dangerous precedent for how future leaders might treat the media. Under a second Trump administration, the press would likely face even greater hostility, with potentially disastrous consequences for the free flow of information in this country.
It’s essential to remember that Trump’s hostility towards the press is not just about bruised egos or personal vendettas. It’s part of a broader strategy to undermine the very foundations of democracy. “You don’t have the brains you were born with,” Trump sneered at a reporter, reducing their legitimate inquiry to an insult. This is classic authoritarianism—attack, belittle, and delegitimize until the press is too weakened to hold power accountable.
In the article I penned this August, I warned of the sinister shift in Trump’s rhetoric, particularly his disturbing promise to end voting as we know it. His disdain for democratic norms is palpable, and it’s matched only by his contempt for the free press. If Trump returns to the White House, the consequences for journalists will be dire. They will be vilified, harassed, and possibly even persecuted.
Trump’s war on the press is not just a political strategy; it’s a symptom of a deeper, more insidious problem. This is a man who does not believe in democracy, who does not believe in accountability, who does not believe in the free exchange of ideas. He believes in power—his power—and he will do whatever it takes to maintain it.
As Americans approach the 2024 election, they must ask themselves: what kind of country do they want to live in? Do they want a country where the press is free to hold power accountable, where journalists can ask tough questions without fear of retribution? Or do they want a country where the president rules with an iron fist, silencing all who dare to oppose him? The choice is theirs, and the stakes could not be higher.
Complacency is not an option. Trump’s rhetoric is not mere bluster; it’s a declaration of intent. If he returns to the White House, the press will face its greatest challenge yet. It is essential for Americans to be ready to stand with the press, to defend it, and to ensure that it can continue to do its vital work. Because without a free press, there can be no democracy. And without democracy, there can be no America.
Vudi Xhymshiti, founder of The Frontliner Magazine, brings a wealth of experience in reporting on global armed conflicts and political issues. With a background in Documentary Photography and Photojournalism from the University of the Arts London, and studies in Political Science, International Relations, and Diplomacy, Vudi skilfully merges human rights insights with dedicated journalism. His ethical and thoughtful reporting has graced top publications like The Guardian and The New York Times. At The Frontliner, launched in 2023, he explores the profound effects of conflicts on law, human rights, and freedoms, continuing his commitment to impactful storytelling.
